Of Cabbages and Kings
by Adara1
Summary: This is seriously the weirdest, funniest story I've ever read. I cracked myself up writing this. It's basically the crazy adventures involving pumpkins, walruses, trees, Alanna, Faithful, Roger, and a bunch of demented plot twists. Rated for mild language
1. In Which Roger Is The Walrus (Coo Coo Ca...

Disclaimer: I, Adara, do not own any of these characters, nor do I own "The Walrus and the Carpenter" by Lewis Caroll. I do, however, own this crazy story, which came out of my own demented head. Please don't take it without my permission (the story, not my head), although I can't imagine why you'd want it in the first place. Thank you.  
  
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Of Cabbages and Kings  
  
Sir Alanna of Baron's Swoop stood on the tower. Nothing interesting had happened for months. Therefore, all hell broke loose. Alanna sneezed repeatedly and a light flashed. Damn, Alanna swore mentally, the last time something this magical happened was when Faithful... her thought trailed off when she saw the petite black cat sitting on the rail in front of her. Damn, damn, damn, double damn, she thought. Faithful began to purr snidely, and Alanna remembered with a growing horror that he could hear her thoughts if they were projected loud enough, and since she'd been yelling in her mind...  
  
You know, I usually don't come back after I've died, but I decided that perhaps I could make an exception for you, the cat said smugly, Besides, Jon's coming and he's not happy.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Alanna was asking indignantly when she was stopped from saying anything else when a loud cry came from the bottom of the manor.  
  
"Ahoy, you fiend! Come out and fight like a man!" King Jonathan of Conte yelled, waving his sword.  
  
"What the-?" Alanna said perplexedly, "What happened to him?"  
  
Ah, I told you. He's angry at George, gods know why.  
  
"They do? Then tell me."  
  
I told you- the gods know why. I don't. I'm not a god.  
  
"I noticed," Alanna said dryly, leaning forward to capture the action below.  
  
George, Baron of Pirates' Swoop, answered the call, wearing a floury apron and looking confused. "What's all the commotion about?" he asked, looking bemused, until he spotted the king. "Oh, Jon, come in. I was just baking pumpkin pie..." He trailed off when Jon glared at him frightfully.  
  
"I knew it! I knew it!" Jon yelled, "You did it! You took the pumpkin! I came in and it was gone! Gone!"  
  
"Uh oh," Alanna muttered, slinking slowly off the tower. Faithful remained, lashing his tail and smirking.  
  
"Well," George said reasonably, "Alanna wanted some pumpkin pie, and-"   
  
"Alanna! She did this! She made you take my pumpkin, you thief!"  
  
"Actually, Thayet gave it to me, and I'm not a thief anymore," George said quietly, but Jon took no notice.  
  
"You took her away from me too! It's all you! You and Alanna are the cause of all my problems!" Then he did a double take, "Alanna! Eureka! That's it! We'll fight and the winner gets the pumpkin pie and Alanna."  
  
"If you care that much, you can just take the pumpkin back-" George said doubtfully.  
  
"NO! This is no longer about the pumpkin... well, only a little bit... No! It's about honor now!"  
  
"Er, can I go get changed and get my sword...?"   
  
"I suppose. You have one minute. Go now, I am waiting."   
  
*****Several Minutes Later*****  
  
Amid the clash of swords and grunts of the fighters, there was a flash of sapphire blue light, and there was only one man left. Instead of George, there was a tree.  
  
"Hey! What happened?" George said, then (after a surprised pause), "Whoa! Am I tree?! Ask me if I'm a tree."  
  
"Are you a tree?"  
  
"Ummmm..."  
  
"Yes, my heavily wooded former friend, you are, which means I won and the pumpkin pie is mine! Bwahahahahaha!" Jonathan laughed evilly. Alanna was heaving a sigh of relief, when he stopped and said abruptly, "Oh yeah. I get Alanna too."  
  
"Hey! That's not fair! You cheated!" George said angrily.  
  
"Shut up. You're a tree. You can't do anything about it!"  
  
"Watch me," the tree said. He appeared to be meditating, and lapsed into a contemplative silence.  
  
Alanna hurried down the stairs, in hopes of persuading Jon to release George from his enchantment, but she never got that far. Her child started wailing and she rushed up to attend to him.  
  
After she had put Thom back to sleep, she shot down the stairs to confront Jon. He was smiling darkly, and dodging the apples George was throwing at him. Thunk, thunk, thunk, the red fruit landed in the courtyard. Alanna stopped to watch the amusing sight of Tortall's reigning sovereign dodging (and occasionally getting hit by) high speed flying apples thrown by a highly regarded Baron.  
  
Faithful, still sitting at the top of the tower, seemed to be laughing hysterically in a silky, cat-like sort of way. Alanna paused to glare at him for a second, "Damn you Faithful," she muttered.  
  
She stepped on a withered apple at the bottom of the steps, and vaulted face-forward onto the stone directly below. Jonathan laughed evilly. Alanna looked up from the rather hard stone courtyard to see him peeling off his face... PEELING OFF HIS FACE?! Alanna did a quick double take. Indeed, Tortall's reigning monarch slowly peeled off his mask, to reveal a more evil, sinister face underneath, one that Alanna was sure she had seen before... was it that of Garibaldi the Flying Goat? No! it was Duke Roger of Conte, Alanna's evil archenemy.   
  
"Argh!" Alanna grumbled, "It is Duke Roger of Conte, my evil archenemy, brought back to life in another unsuspected plot twist!"  
  
"Heh heh heh..." Roger cackled. George quivered indignantly.   
  
"This is too weird for me. I'm going to sleep," the Baron said.  
  
"Uh, so where exactly is Jonathan?" Alanna asked, carefully picking her way through fallen apples. As she walked, she carefully gathered all her magic into her index finger as her final weapon.  
  
"Hahahahaha... I will beat you at last, Sir Alanna of Many Last Names! You are weaponless, while I... how shall we say this... am not."  
  
"I wouldn't be so sure," Alanna said. She took aim, and her magic shot out of her like a violet firecracker.   
  
A great cloud surrounded Roger and when the fog cleared a great mauve walrus was revealed.  
  
"Heheheheheheeeeee!" the walrus giggled, "Hard to kill someone twice dead," he added smugly.  
  
Alanna looked curiously at her finger. "Weird," she remarked. Mental note to self: Get Numair to look at magic. "Anyway... what exactly is it that you want, Roger? Other than wiping me off the face of the Earth, of course."  
  
"The time has come," the walrus said, "To talk of many things: Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax, of cabbages and kings, and why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings."  
  
A sow flapped by, squealing emphatically.   
  
"Down, Pinky!" Roger, the walrus, screamed.  
  
"Well, I guess that answers your last question," Alanna said dryly.  
  
"Yes indeed, so let's go back a while... say, to the part about 'kings'?"  
  
"Oh no..." Alanna groaned, "This isn't another one of those 'Let's bring Roger back and make him try to rule Tortall again' fics, is it?"  
  
(**At this point the author looks studiously away, not meeting Alanna's fictional eyes.**)  
  
"Well, even it is, I'm not going to stand for it!" Alanna declared forcefully, after getting no reply.  
  
"I'm sorry my dear, but you'll have no say, I'm afraid," Duke Roger said as an orange flash, looking suspiciously like a flame, came from his snout. Alanna promptly became a downy soft, white Persian cat. With wings. And a three-foot tail.   
  
"Mew...?" she meowed piteously.  
  
For some odd reason, Faithful became overcome with laughter. Oh gods... he said.  
  
"Meaow mew meow meow meeeeeeow?" Alanna demanded.  
  
Faithful blinked solemnly, once more under control. Perhaps you should let her talk, he suggested to Roger. Roger nodded once, and snapped his fingers.  
  
"Meow mew mew... hell do you think you're doing?" Alanna finished indignantly. Then she heard herself speak and relaxed. "Ah, much better!" she exclaimed, lashing her gargantuan tail.  
  
"And now, without further ado, I will go and eat lunch inside your fine castle, before taking over the world!!" Roger declared as he waddled up the walkway.  
  
"This is crazy," Alanna murmured to herself, "George! Give some me help here, please!"  
  
The tree merely rustled his branches restively and made no reply. "Fat lot of help you are," Alanna muttered. Seizing upon an opportunity, she twisted her long tail around and attempted to trip Roger as he went by. Of course, she failed. After all, how does one trip a walrus?  
  
We'll never finish Roger off and end this stupid story at this rate! Faithful cried despairingly, Can't you speed it up a little?  
  
(**The author nods**)  
  
Suddenly, Roger dropped dead.  
  
Faithful rolled his eyes. Imbecile, he said, not that fast!  
  
Roger, making a miraculous recovery, regained life and got off the ground. "It's a miracle!" he shouted, "I've been saved!"  
  
At that moment, he disappeared. "What the…?" Alanna asked, confused. She flapped her downy white wings and flew up to inspect from the air. Nothing was there.  
  
"Definitely strange," she said, "I've gotten to the point where I have no idea what's going on anymore!"  
  
What else is new? Faithful inquired dryly before disappearing in a cloud of smoke.  
  
"Hey! Is this over already? But I didn't even get to kill him! This story has no ending!" Alanna shouted to the air  
  
(**The author shrugs apologetically, and makes some comment about 'writer's block'**)  
  
"Whoa, wait a minute! Do I ever get out of this stupid cat form? What about George? Not to mention whatever happened to Roger!... and where did that flying pig come from? Where did she go? Gods... I'm so confused..."  
  
"Oink."  
  
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So, people, whaddaya think? Should I try to resolve this comical situation, or quit while I'm still (marginally) ahead? If I continue... WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN???   



	2. Which I Call Wheaties For No Paritcular ...

Yup, that's right... I WROTE THE NEXT PART OF "OF CABBAGES AND KINGS"!!! (took me long enough)  
  
Ok, nobody belongs to me. I don't own Eminem (thank god) if you can even tell he's in here. I am not, nor do I own Dr. Seuss or any books he wrote.  
  
Right, onward!  
  
***  
  
Of Cabbages and Kings 2  
  
The tree stood alone in the middle of the courtyard. ~Funny,~ he mused, ~weren't there more people here? Have I always been a tree? Wasn't I a... a... a something else? A... baron?~ The tree laughed. ~Stupid, he told himself, you're a tree. Go back to sleep.~  
  
The walrus (who was not really a walrus, merely a delusional human back from the dead) reappeared in the walkway in front of the tree (who was not really a tree, but actually an ex-thief married to a fierce warrior-maid) and honked indignantly. "Of all the stupid tricks to play!" he complained. "First I'm a walrus, then I'm in the abyss of nothingness – which is very boring, let me tell you – and now I'm back again, with no one to fight!" He snorted. "AND, I'm hungry!" he added petulantly.  
  
Two cats (neither one of which really was a cat, one being a god and the other a confused and rage filled female) fell on his head. "Aff!" he yelled indistinctly. One of the cat's tails was in his mouth, and the other in his ear (if walruses even have ears).  
  
A tall human walked up the drive. "Ahem?" he said experimentally into the bullhorn he carried. The walrus looked confused as the man said, "Hi! My name is..."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"My name is..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"My name is Dr. Seuss. Do you like green eggs and ham?"  
  
"Go away," The large, white persian said coldly. "Go away before I... before I... before I... do something... something large... and furry... and... oh, just go away!"  
  
"Geeze, Alanna, can't you take a joke?" Numair whined.  
  
"I don't think cats understand jokes," Alanna (because that's who the white cat really was, silly) said. "Do they, Faithful? Understand jokes, I mean," she added to the black cat sitting beside her.  
  
:Depends on the cat,: Faithful said snobbily. :I, for one, am entirely civilised and understand every joke that comes along, as well as sarcasm, irony, satire, and forms of humour humans haven't even heard of yet. So there.:  
  
This appeared to interest Numair and he got into a long, boring, and snobby conversation with Faithful about how stupid most humans are. He was so engrossed in the conversation that he didn't even notice when Roger and Alanna (working together for the first time in their strange lives) turned him into a ladybug.   
  
He noticed, however, when Faithful pounced on the bug, and ate him.  
  
:Yummy,: Faithful said, purring, :though a bit dry.:  
  
From inside Faithful's stomach tinny cries of "Help! Let me out! I'm being digested aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive..." could be heard. The crowd of assorted creatures ignored them.  
  
Then they all died, because the author got tired of writing this stupid story.  
  
They might be back.  
  
No promises, though. 


End file.
